Spell of the Sea
by Lamanth
Summary: ONE SHOT – Memories, perfection frozen in time, yet cracked with fading edges. Alone in a room filled with the scent of the sea. Kai/Ming-Ming


**Disclaimer:** I don't own Beyblade or any of its characters, merchandise, TV rights, ect… (I think you get the point.)

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Summery 

ONE SHOT – Memories, perfection frozen in time, yet cracked with fading edges. Alone in a room filled with the scent of the sea. (Kai/Ming-Ming)

Like all of my work this is just something that happened to float through the empty void inside my head. Like it or hate it please R and R as honest opinions are always welcomed, as are random acts of worship.

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Lamb: Just a little idea that came to me while I was thinking of a friend.

**Muse:** A friend who has by now taken her singing exam, so instead of this being a good luck fic it's more of a congratulations one.

_Dedi:_ This fic is dedicated to **Iluvbeyblade** cus we know that in spit of how worried she may have been, about the exam as well as about Lamb, she will have done her best and that's all anyone could ask. So **Iluvbeyblade** this is for you.

Lamb: As always sorry for any bad spelling and if you feel the need to throw things at me please wait until I've hidden behind the sofa kay!?

M**use: **On with the fic!

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_I have seen moon and blossoms,  
Now I go,  
To view the last and loveliest,  
The snow,  
A frozen dream a heart undone,  
Forever burning under the winter sun,_

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**Spell of the Sea**

He pauses in the doorway, looking into the room painted in whites and shades of grey. Within all is stillness, the air hangs unmoving with only the salty sent of the sea giving life to the chill place. Slowly his eyes moving, observing every small detail, though they are already imprinted on him memory for he has watched the scene so many times before.

Like a portrait engraved on spun glass, the world seems frozen. A single moment captured in time, separate and distorted from everything around it. As if he looked on it through a prism, shattering and splintering all into monochrome under his gaze until only one bright point of colour remained.

She sits at the piano, her fingers moving in a lazy rhythm over the keys. Their once clean brightness faded by time until they too have become yet more shades of grey. The only colour that fills their shared world. But still the sound rings out true and clear, the notes hovering like diamond sparks in the dead air.

There is no melody that he can recognise, no tune that stirs his memory; there is only the song that fate wills as her fingers move over the keys, pulled by unknown forces. There is the sound of the sea in the music, soft and lilting. The gentle caress of the waves upon the shore. Soft hands soothing away all the pain that the world has shown him.

But sometimes there is a faint hint of the passing storm, as it grows steadily closer. Darker, almost violent. And he sees himself dashed upon rocks, his body broken and his mind spent. But always she is there to gather him up once more, her arms tight around him. Leading him to the place where there is nothing to hurt and no one to harm.

Across the floor he moves, un-rushed, there is no need to hurry she will wait for him as she has always waited. The floorboards, beach that have been bleached to the fair white of old bones by the passage of time, are cold under his bare feet. But here and now, in this place sensation is all and he feels the very lifeblood in his veins dancing to the song she creates.

Her head is bowed, her eyes half lidded as she lets her fingers flit like small wild birds that pull notes from thin air. His touch is light as he rests his hands on her shoulders, his eyes fixing on the view through the open window. The winter sea, cold and calm. Dark steely grey but here and there flashing blinding brilliant white as it catches the last of the suns fading light.

As if she has just become aware of his presence, her head falls back and she leans into him. Her fingers never once faltering in there un-scripted dance. And now she began to sing. Not quite words, but not quite scales either. Strange and unworldly they were, bell sharp but somehow at the same time faded round the edges.

Senseless pictures formed in his mind, then would fragment like a broken mirror only to be replaces by yet another scene. Half memory, half dream.

A sea ragging and violent while a phoenix bathed in black flames rose from its depths.

Roses blooming in winter, theirs the only colour in a world so white and empty of any signs of life.

A mermaid stretched out upon the rocks, gasping for breath as the traitorous waves retreated leaving her trapped on her stony prison.

Soft pink cherry blossoms falling like rain under the light of a pale blue moon.

And finally a girl, bright azure strands caught and held by a pearl hair pin, crying out softly as he was dragged backwards into the waiting darkness.

The storm is in full flow now, deep notes sounding in the air, forming a surreal counterpoint to her sweet clear voice. And he can see ships; their sails ripped to rags, dashed against rocks with edges as sharp as flint. Faster and faster her fingers fly, and he can almost hear the sound of the rain on the water and the rumbling of the thunder over head. Like an abandoned animal it growls into the night.

Her body trembles as the crescendo builds within her. Tightly he winds his arms about her small form, holding her close as she rushes head long past towering walls of icy grey water. Following a twisting dark path, running towards the single point of bright light in an otherwise dark world.

Eyes closer against the pain of memory as the final frantic cords split the air, and cruel loss washes over him. For a moment it hangs in the stillness of the room, as if it has been captured in the finest crystal, and the whole world is only visible by the light glinting off of it's edges. And then as quickly as it came it has past and there is nothing.

He stands before the piano, its keys coated with a thick lair of grey dust. No sound has come from it for over three years; he could not have born a hand to touch it since her passing. At times he has tried to remove the retched thing that only serves to remind him of all that he has lost. But fear prevents him from taking that final act of separation. For without he thinks the dreams will too fade just as everything else has done. Slowly turning her bright image to simple shades of grey.

Unmoving he stands watching as the winter sun sinks deeper into the ever-waiting sea. Leaving him in a salt scented room filled the memories of long departed ghosts and the spells that they once cast over him.

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Lamb: So there you have it, I'm not entirely sure what to make of it myself. But I don't think it's too bad for half an hour's work.

**Muse:** Though she's back to killing people again or at least has people dead.

_Dedi:_ Well as long as it works and we hope you liked it **Iluvbeyblade**.

Please R and R I'd love to know what you thought.

Big luv see ya

Lamanth


End file.
